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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380098">The Real-Time Strategist</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalthusIndex/pseuds/MalthusIndex%20Old%20Shames'>MalthusIndex Old Shames (MalthusIndex)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Original Work</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Video Game World, Gen, Military, Military Ranks, RTS, Video Game Mechanics</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:34:41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,360</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380098</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MalthusIndex/pseuds/MalthusIndex%20Old%20Shames</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Mia is just your typical soldier in the Grey Legion: obedient, effective, and ordered around by a commander she doesn't even see in person. Despite this, a single breach of her orders is all it takes to attract some attention that she never expected - somebody who lives just outside of the battlefield she calls home. Unfortunately, disobeying a superior officer who sees everything isn't something you can do lightly, especially not when you're only part of the game...</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <a href="https://tacticaltypist.weebly.com/home/the-real-time-strategist-part-1">This is also hosted on my new site!</a></p>
            </div></td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The Real-Time Strategist</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a concept I've been interested in writing for a while. It isn't particularly realistic, but there have been plenty of "video game world" stories, and I haven't seen any that focus on a Real-Time Strategy games. So, I tried to make my own!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>
    <span>I see... ehh... five, maybe six. About seven-hundred meters out. Are you getting them too?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>The air of the empty valley seemed to yawn as time continued to slowly crawl along, with only a handful of roaming birds and distant wisps of smoke ruining the otherwise frozen world around the two scouts. It had been like this for hours, with only a token amount of gunfire to the east reminding them that the war was still happening.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“No, nothing.” Flipping up her mounted binoculars, the female of the pair turned to look at her companion, her weapon still holstered. There hadn’t been a reason to draw it for at least two hours now. “Are you sure you saw something?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“I thought so. I swear I did. Huh. Weird.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“You’re bullshitting me, aren’t you?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>He continued to peer out into the valley from the grassy outcrop they had stationed themselves on, cycling between every zoom level he had. “I think I need to get my eyes checked when we get back, I’m sure I saw something.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>The valley was still just as silent as ever. Nothing moved.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Lowering the binoculars again, the woman turned her attention towards the remains of the village in the very centre, watching for movement between the stone buildings. Whoever had lived here was gone when the Grey Legion had arrived, but that didn’t mean they were ever coming back. “How come we never took this place? I know it’s a tactical nightmare, raised ground and all that, but still...”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“If they wanted it, they’d have taken it. I guess they have some ‘grand plan’ in the works here.” The statement could have been misinterpreted as dripping with sarcasm, but she knew that Avery was being completely serious: the Grunts at the front lines never saw the full picture until they got to read the updated history reports on the battles months later.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>She smirked, trying to keep quiet in case they were still at risk of being found by some lost patrol, and gently shook her head. “As long as we live and they die, right?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“That’s what the posters say, yeah.” He didn’t turn his head, but he clearly wasn’t focusing on the task at hand anymore. She couldn’t blame him - there was no point. “I know we’re fighting a war and all, but I always found that one a bit fucked up. They could have at least put it somewhere other than the toilets.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Shrugging but refusing to take her eyes off the valley, the woman resorted to making a grunt of amusement instead. “They’re not lying, I guess. I don’t think we’ve ever won a conflict that didn’t involve large amounts of killing.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“There was a few. Remember the three-way skirmish from last year? We won that just by holding territory. Headed by... God, what was his name?” He paused to think, clicking one of his fingers to try and snap his mind into gear. “Teeg? Teej! That was it, Commander Teej. That’s what they called him, anyway."</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“We get decent commanders, compared to other units. Remember John? From the Battle of The Nine Islands?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“Oh yeah, what happened to him?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“I think he just gave up the role. His unit lost that conflict five times, so I guess he got replaced or left.” She thought back to some of her old commanders, none of which she had actually met. Nobody had, that was sort of the point. “Do you remember Commander... wow, I forgot her name? The woman?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“Was that our unit?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“No, that was... I don’t remember the unit name, actually. Ashe left during the battle and never came back, which might be why. I doubt there’s many of them still ali-.” she paused as her eyes caught a glimpse of something darting from one piece of cover to another, two of the walls on the edge of the village. Reaching out to grab her rifle, she pulled it over to her body and swung out the bipod, placing it on the very edge of the stone and grass platform. “I saw it. Walls, to the left of that building with the broken doors. It’s probably whatever you saw earlier.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Avery’s head snapped in that direction as he too began to deploy his weapon, raising his binoculars again so that he could use the scope instead. “Shit, alright. How many?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“I only saw one, but...”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“So it’s either the remains of a squad, some independent specialist, or a pathfinder for a larger force. Did you see where it went?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Scanning the area again, the female scout panned her vision around the target’s last known location, but couldn’t see anything more than the slow movements of some wild bushes and trees. “No, I don’t see it anymore. Should we call it in? I know we’re not supposed to unless we have proof, but command might want to know.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“Hmm... better not. We should only call in what we know.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“Alright.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>The two lay there, weapons ready to fire, and continued to hunt for their possible contact. There was no guarantee that it was even hostile, especially since the only people with knowledge of their own troop movements on a full scale was their commanders. She still had her hand ready to trigger the radio the moment they either was the target or started taking fire, just in case.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“Mia, remember, don’t fire unless we see hostilities. We’re scouts. Details first, combat second.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“I know, let me focus.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Once again, the valley was nearly silent, with only their duties keeping the two invested in what lay within. It would have been a nice place to rest prior to the war: blue skies, green grass and fresh air that filled your lungs to their deepest points with life. Mia almost wished she could come there with some of her comrades after the conflict, maybe have a drink and a smoke or two, but it didn’t seem likely.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Avery broke the peaceful atmosphere with a hushed “I see... oh, no. Nothing.” before falling silent again, mumbling a curse to himself under his breath.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“Wait, Avery. Didn’t you say you saw at least five for a second? You don’t think...”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>An awkward silence rose between the two as their brains came to the same conclusion. She watched as her comrade flipped a switch on his rifle scope, toggling the thermal camera built into its frame. The way that his face dropped and his breathing slowed told her all she needed to know.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“How many?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“Thirteen. No, fifteen. Maybe sixteen. One of them’s bigger than the others.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Stealth units. The Grey Legion hadn’t encountered them in this battle before, and they were such a rare soldier among this particular enemy force that she had completely forgotten to check for them. “Where?” Toggling the thermal on her rifle, she scoped in and panned around the old village, looking for any obvious heat signatures.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“In the middle of the village square. Is that... an engineer? They might be building something.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>She could see it too. Fourteen small heat signatures and a larger one, all humanoid , with another that was very clearly robotic in nature - boxy, unusually cool in most places and reading a high temperature at an exhaust-like port on its side. “They’re definitely doing something. Call it in.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Avery lowered his weapon and grabbed onto the radio mounted to his hip, tapping the send button three times to create a simple trio of static bursts. Once he received one back, he unclipped it from his belt and raised it to his face. “Enemy engineer sighted. Enemy stealth squad.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>And that was that. Now they just had to wait to either receive orders or identify a reason to open fire. There was nothing left to do but watch and keep track of as many of the targets as possible, a difficult feat given that they were forced to use their unwieldy rifles as thermal telescopes to see them clearly.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>The group of stealth units didn’t seem to know they were there, which begged the question of why the enemy had bothered to send such a niche specialist in the first place. From an outside point of view the valley was completely abandoned, and engineers were literally the most reproducible robotic unit they could field, so losing one wasn’t even a setback apart from the slight delay as a new one was dispatched. Something felt off, especially with the apparent guard detail here too.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“I’m going to shoot.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Her blunt statement caught Avery off guard, his mouth making an involuntary grunt of confusion as he turned to look at her. “What?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“I’m going to shoot. Something’s going on.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“Well, yeah, of course something’s going on, but that doesn’t mean you can ignore protocol-“</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>She fired.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>The loud report from her rifle echoed a cracking sound across the valley, the noise bouncing between the distant edges of the natural terrain and reverberating through the emptiness of the village. The single bullet she had fired, specially designed for scouts to eliminate distant targets, span through the air towards her target: the engineer’s fuel tank.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Within a second, the shot ruptured the metal and set the liquid within alight, detonating the entire machine in a small but powerful explosion that was enough to make a few of the stealth units stumble. The rest, reacting to the sound, span around to face their position.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>She lined up a shot and fired again.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>The largest target, the one carrying the stealth field generator, was caught off guard as the bullet entered his face, and he helped in pain. Still alive despite the wound, he draw his weapon, only to have a second shot join the first. By the time she had a third lined up, he was on the ground dead, his warped face exposed to the fresh air underneath his helmet.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Seeing one of these creature again - she didn’t know the name of their race, but Command called their collective whole ‘The Republic’ - took her out of the fight for a moment, her eyes fixated on the way that its head had crumpled inwards as if it had started to shatter. At least they still had the same weak skulls that humans did.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“Mia, what the fuck are you doing!?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Snapping back into action at Avery’s protests, she continued to take down whoever targets she could see, their stealth field no longer operational with them and the high vantage point forcing them to stay in the village limits to avoid being exposed. After five of the squad had fallen, they began to shoot back, a hail of bullets landing in the vague area around the sniping spot.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Cursing in anger and grabbing his own rifle, Avery began to reluctantly help. Now that they had been fired upon, it was technically required that they defend themselves unless told otherwise, even though the enemy hasn’t initiated the gunfight.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>More enemy soldiers fell, and more, each one becoming more and more desperate as their morale began to drain away at the sight of their squadmates collapsing with severe bullet wounds to the head of neck. A few had enough time to set up their weapons properly, their shots ripping through the cool air barely a foot or two from Mia's position, but she did her best to ignore the danger and press the attack. It was only when she heard the click of an empty chamber that she shuffled back behind the rim of the outcrop, pulling out a fresh magazine and ramming it into her rifle with one smooth motion before returning to the hail of bullets. Avery had killed two more by the time that she was ready to fire again, leaving only four or five targets to take out - she couldn't keep track.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>The sounds of battle echoed through the open space of the valley's dipped landscape, making it feel like guns were being discharged from all around them, but within another minute all enemy guns had fallen silent. Fifteen bodies and a destroyed robot had been added to the war's list of casualties.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Avery was furious. Staring at Mia with fire in his eyes, he lowered his weapon back down onto the ground next to him and began to stare out into the valley, not bothering to use his binoculars anymore.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“Targets... eliminated. Happy now?"</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>It took a while for the adrenaline rush to wear off, and Mia had to wrench her twitching finger away from the trigger. Even lying still on a high vantage point could get exciting when the bullets began flying, and this was no exception. She had barely moved, but her heart was beating like a marching drum in her chest.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“God... damn it, Mia."</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“Why are you so worked up about it?"</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>"You shouldn't have fired first, we're not..." Sighing, he lifted his body slightly and shifted all his weight to his knees, sitting up so that he was more comfortable. "We aren't supposed to engage the enemy unless they engage us first. Command won't be happy."</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>"Like they'll even know."</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“They always know, Mia!”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>She didn't have anything to respond with, because he was technically correct. Their instructions were, as a blanket rule, to only engage if they were attacked first, but surely there would still be exceptions for situations like this. No matter what the engineer had been doing in no man's land, waiting around would have given it time to finish its work, and she couldn't risk letting the enemy claim more ground than they already had. The valley went ignored most of the time, but it was still territory they would have to move through at some point.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p><span>He was correct about the other point, too. Command</span> <span>always knew</span> <span>what you got up to in the field, no matter how careful you were.</span></p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Grumbling to himself, Avery pushed himself off the ground and stood up straight, his rifle cradled in his hands. "Well, they're dead. Time to call it in."</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>"What do you mean? We don't usually call in kills."</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p><span>"I'm calling in these ones. Command probably knows already anyway, so we might as well do</span> <span>something</span><span> according to protocol." Pulling his radio off his belt, the scout tapped the button three times and paused, waiting until a reply came in the form of a vague static burst. "Enemy squad and engineer destroyed. We... we initiated it. Standing by."</span></p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>No response came, and the two simply waited on the outcrop, with Mia continuing to scan the horizon for more targets or incoming hostiles. Orders were orders, so Avery soon joined her, his face still showing obvious signs of irritation at what she had done.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“You really shouldn’t have done that, they’re going to be pissed off.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“Let me talk the blame, then.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>The pair were forced to sit there and accept that the situation was what it was. There was no talking, no sarcastic quips and no mention of the firefight that had just occurred. Neither of them were in the mood to discuss the situation right now.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>It felt like an hour passed before the radio made any more noise, even though it may have only been a few minutes. The order was a single sentence, crisp and clean.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>"Return to base."</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>That was that. They didn't receive any kind of additional orders, or a clarification that a relief team was coming in. Granted, it wasn't all that common to get more than the most basic set of details about what you were supposed to do, but that was mostly in combat situations where there wasn't much time to get the information across. That means that either something bad was happening back at base, or Mia's ass was planted firmly on - no, over - the line.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Avery was already on his feet by the time the device crackled off again, unscrewing the steel scope from his rifle so that he could stow it away on his suit's back rigging with less hassle. "I think they know something went down. They're going to want a report on what happened here, and I'm not going be to taking any blame for it. All of my shots were within our orders." He was clearly still irritated, but there was still a twinge of relief in his voice, like he was satisfied that they were going 'home'.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>"I know you aren't, so I'll tell them. You're acting like they'll execute me for this."</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>"Who says they won’t?"</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>It was... an odd question. Mia couldn't tell if it was genuine, or an attempt at a joke, but the way he had said it seemed... off. Come to think of it, a lot of his speech had seemed somewhat forced since a few days ago during the early hours of the battle, but it was possible that he was still riding the stress of first contact with the enemy. "If they do, then fuck it, I did my job. It's not like I turned traitor." Pushing herself off the ground and starting to slinging her rifle behind her back without even bothering to raise the bipod, she took one last look over the village that they had been watching for the past several hours. "Shame, I was actually getting comfortable being out here."</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>"Come on, we're going." Her partner had already started to walk away, not even bothering to wait for her. There was definitely something off about the way he was acting now, but she had never actually seen him this irritated before outside of a firefight, so she just decided to shrug it off for now. If Avery still had issues with her when they got back to base, they'd talk it out like adults. The mission was always the worst place to let personal drama interfere with what was going on around you, no matter how safe you felt or how far behind your own lines you were.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Leaving the fresh air of the valley behind, the two continued up the path that they had been hiding near, making their way to the top of the natural terrain's edge and heading west towards the nearest Grey Legion encampment. After so long lying on the grassy outcrop with nothing to do but watch and wait, it seemed almost wrong that they were able to walk away in under two minutes with no fanfare or forced retreating. They could just leave.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Part of her wanted to go back and investigate the engineer, see what it had been tasked with building, but she couldn’t push the rules that far - especially not with Avery around. Besides, the distant sounds of artillery shells scorching the terrain had started to pick up again on the other side of the valley, presumably from another attack that their commanding officers had launched against the enemy stronghold.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Still, she couldn’t get the engineer out of her head. Why had it been there? Surely Command wouldn’t care if it was destroyed: it wasn’t any kind of high-value target and the valley was practically worthless ground, so the presence of the construction robot was immediately suspicious to her. She might have just prevented the enemy from building a defensive weapons platform and cutting off more territory, and that was a good outcome no matter how you tried to twist it.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>The area beyond the crest of the valley was just as lush and green, full of gently swaying flora and pock-marks from skirmishes or barrages that had long since ended. It felt like many of them had been here since before the Grey Legion had arrived, but it was impossible to tell due to the rate the grass would regrow in any craters or ditch’s their weapons created. No matter how bloody a battle got, nature would repair their damage within a day or two.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Avery seemed to notice something in the wind and turned his head to the right, peering off into the distance and using one hand to shelter his eyes from the bright sunlight.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“See something?”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“I think it was just a bird. I hope it was, anyway.” He began to walk back to base again, his voice equal parts frustrated and tired. “I’m not in the mood for anything else today.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Deciding that he had the right idea, Mia sighed and followed after him, only giving the supposed bird a token glance as they passed. Her brain didn’t even register the fact that, upon closer inspection, it wasn’t a bird at all - and it was watching them.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>—</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>“A wine glass is a dangerous thing, especially when paired with a bottle of alcohol.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>The aged, white-haired woman poured out a modest measurement of fruity, blood-red cider, swishing it in her glass a bit as she walked back from the counter. Each step brought on another click of her formal shoes, just another part of the old lab coat uniform that she had grown fond of wearing for meetings like this.</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>A large ceiling-mounted screen in front of her rotated slightly to face her as she moved about her open-plan living area - a feature she was proud to admit was homebrew - and the pink, holographic face displayed on it rolled its eyes at her lack of care. “Must you really drink so often? You’re no longer the middle-aged woman you think you are.”</span>
  </p>
</div><div>
  <p>
    <span>Shooting the monitor a stern glare, the woman drank the whole glass in one gulp, before gently tossing it onto a nearby sofa’s white leather cushions. “Hmph. I suppose you have a point, but still, I have to numb my joints somehow.”</span>
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    <span>She winced and quickly twisted her neck sideways, her bones letting out a quiet, sickening crunch in the process. “And since we know painkillers don’t work, alcohol is really the only other option I have. Did you have a reason for bothering me, Henersi?”</span>
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    <span>“A very good reason. Two of the Grey Legion scouts were stationed in an isolated area today, and their actions prove that they may be worth your time.” Although her friend didn’t like to show his face, his tone was more than enough to tell her that he was just as intrigued by the details he had. “They fired without command, killing sixteen. Well, fifteen and a robot. I’m sure I don’t need to tell you why I’m bringing this to your attention.”</span>
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    <span>Despite her efforts, Henersi had managed to pique her interest, and she fought with her own facial muscles to hide the smile that threatened to break out on her face. "You think they're candidates?" Taking another swig of the cider, she felt herself relax slightly as the aching knots in her body started to loosen up just a tad. It all hurt, but a touch of alcohol made it hurt slightly less. "A single incident isn't worth my time, even if it was a case of not following orders.”</span>
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    <span>"Not yet. All we have are the details from the engineer they destroyed. You were right – those upgrades made our job much easier...” The voice on the other end trailed off as the sounds of the microphone being moved came blasting through the monitor’s speakers. “Hm, it looks like they returned to following orders for now.”</span>
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    <span>"Yes, exactly. Why is why you're going to tell me the miraculous reason that this particular case is somehow different, like last time."</span>
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    <span>The pink face on the display scowled, at least as well as it could with its limited graphical quality. "I've already admitted that she was a mistake. I was not expecting such a self-destructive reaction, neither of us were."</span>
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    <span>"Well, yes." Moving to finish her drink, only to realize that she had already done so, the older lady paused for a moment and gently shook her head. "These things have to be taken into consideration before we act. If anything, I suppose her sudden suicide... was the best option, rather than her returning to service with the knowledge we gave her."</span>
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    <span>"You have to remember that they aren't like us. You see it as telling them the truth, Marion, but to them it's a complete deconstruction of the reality they know." The displayed pink face blinked away and was replaced with a selection of documents, each apparently pulled directly from Henersi's personal computer. "There have been three cases where the response was minimal, but that's a very small percentage, given how often we've tried this."</span>
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    <span>"That doesn't mean much. A person can be perfectly fine with a revelation but still act out emotionally, just as they can appear to accept it but actually be falling apart inside. They might only barely qualify as aware individuals, but they're not clones."</span>
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    <span>"So you don't think we should try with this new pair?"</span>
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    <span>Removing her thick-framed glasses and rubbing at the bridge of her nose with her thumb and index finger, the scientist shut her eyes for a moment and let out an irritated sigh. "I think... we should consider it. I just don't want to cause any more unnecessary deaths, I don't think I can take many more."</span>
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    <span>"Agreed. I'll update you if I notice anything. Oh, do you need me to send any more files over to you before tomorrow?”</span>
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    <span>“I’ll be honest, I wouldn’t read them anyway.”</span>
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    <span>“Goodnight, Marion. Don’t drink too much."</span>
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    <span>"Goodnight, Henersi."</span>
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    <span>And with that, the digital feed was cut, with her companion persuasively heading off to continue his work. She was alone now, sitting on her plain white sofa in the middle of the large study that she had been using for so many years of her long, stressful life.</span>
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    <span>Leaning back to let her body relax on the soft cushions, Marion stopped putting on her professional façade, letting the alcohol from her drink finally start to overtake her brain and welcome the fuzziness into her mind. She was so, so tired. The appearance of two new possible candidates for their cause was as inspiring as it was troubling, seeing as it was impossible to predict how they would act once they were contacted.</span>
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    <span>She had been waiting fifty years to get the results she wanted. She could wait a little longer.</span>
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